melts my heart the way the Pelion Police Department looks out for its citizens, in matters both big and small. I tell Marc all the time, I say, Marc, we are lucky to be part of this lovely community. The wonders your brother has made happen since . . . well . . . since—”
“I agree,” I said softly, knowing the color creeping up her neck had to do with the fact that she’d been about to bring up my mother and how much better the town ran now that Victoria Hale and her selfish motives had moved three towns away.
“I do have some bad news though,” she said, hesitantly. “You see, I had good intentions but apparently, I just don’t have much of a green thumb. Those plants might have done better if I’d just left them on the side of the road and let the small amount of rain we’ve had do its thing.”
She led me to the screened-in porch off the back of the house. Five dehydrated, miserable-looking plants sat near the window, staring longingly out at the water beyond.
Ten minutes later, the plants stuffed in my backseat, a trail of leaves leading from the Hobbs’s front door to my cruiser, I waved out my window, peeling off down the street. “Stay with me, guys,” I told the plants.
I picked up my cell phone and called Haven’s number.
“Chief Hale,” she said sweetly.
“Are you home?”
Home. Had I really started thinking of The Yellow Trellis Inn as home?
“Uh, yes. Why?”
“Meet me out front,” I demanded. “And bring . . .” My mind searched for the right apparatus or product or tool that might help these sorry suckers. “Bring the hose!” I shouted.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Haven
The screen door swung closed behind me as I stepped outside the house. I frowned in confusion, squinting down the road as I waited to see Travis’s cruiser.
What in the world was he up to?
Bring the hose?
I glanced back at the house, spotting a wound-up hose near the wide front steps. With a huff, I walked back to it, unwound it, and squatted down next to the spigot.
“What’s going on?” Betty asked, her tone laced with concern as she stood on the porch, watching me.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Travis just told me to be ready with the hose.”
“Oh dear.” But she looked more excited than nervous now.
“What’s happening?” Burt asked, his walking stick clicking on the wood of the porch as he came up beside Betty.
“I don’t know, but I’ll describe the scene as it . . . as it . . .”
“Happens,” Burt said quietly.
“No, no . . .”
“Unfolds.”
“No . . .”
“Occurs.”
“Exactly,” Betty said.
A car appeared in the distance, turning onto the road that led to the B&B and coming to a skidding halt in the driveway.
Travis jumped out of the cruiser, throwing the back door open and removing the saddest-looking plant I’d probably ever seen. I gasped, turning the water on with a flick of my wrist and dragging the running hose to where he stood. “Oh my God!” I said, gasping and then laughing. “You found them? You found them?”
“Yes!” he called, his head back in the cruiser as he removed another plant, setting it next to the first one. “Hurry! They might only have minutes left.”
I laughed again, but got right to work moving the hose back and forth over their roots and leaves, giving them the drink they so obviously needed, crooning to them while I did.
As Travis shut the doors of his cruiser, I lifted the hose too quickly and accidentally shot a stream of water in his face. “Eek,” I said, lowering it and soaking the front of his uniform.
He brought his hands up in defense, running one back through his saturated hair, laughing suddenly, water droplets flying out around him.
I dropped my arm, water pooling at my feet as I stared at him, laughing proudly in front of the plants he’d rescued. For me.
My heart constricted. My muscles felt heavy. It made me feel both energized and . . . afraid.
He ran his hand over his face again, his gaze meeting mine, his smile slipping as he watched me stare at him.
Behind me, I heard Betty’s soft voice rise and fall as she narrated the scene for Burt.
“You did this for me. Why?”
He paused, as though the question had caught him off guard and he wasn’t entirely sure how to answer. “Because that’s what friends do.”
I felt a small drop inside me but shrugged it off, the fear